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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092544">Orange Bedfellows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typical_Dove/pseuds/Dove%20the%20Unoriginal'>Dove the Unoriginal (Typical_Dove)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jak and Daxter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But it's mostly cute ottsel pets, M/M, okay so maybe a little smoochie smooch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:48:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,305</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typical_Dove/pseuds/Dove%20the%20Unoriginal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble prompt inspired by the cut scene where Daxter appreciates Razer's sexy style. Soon Daxter realizes he has the hots for Razer, making him feel confused. It involves lots of ottsel petting while drunk.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daxter/Razer (Jak and Daxter)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Orange Bedfellows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Author’s Note: I write a lot of Razer, he’s just so sassy, but I never wrote from his POV before and I’m always putting him in the worst position. Enjoy the snugglefest!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It happened almost naturally. Razer had slunk into the Naughty Ottsel Saloon, the unofficial hangout for combat racers in Haven City, and Jak’s scattered crew had tensed up upon his arrival. They quickly forgot about Razer when he settled down at the bar with only a grunt of acknowledgement and a nod for Jak, who sat a few bar stools away and remained wary, as he should be. After a detrimental showing on the course, Razer wasn’t even in the mood to needle him for Mizo’s sake. He’d simply come in, ruffled and expecting to get some smack talk from the boy, but Jak, still recovering from some scrapes and bruises of his own, didn’t seem to be in the mood either. Silence reigned as they sized each other up and then looked away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two men settled into a temporary truce while Razer sipped a sparkling rosé that he’d requested at the beginning of the global level of the tournament. He was not only surprised to find they’d actually acquired a bottle, probably Rayn’s doing, but a little amused that the loud-mouthed rat had proudly offered it to him, as if doing so would class up the dive bar feel. The brand in question wasn’t great, probably some locally blended swill, but Razer had the dignity to order a single glass each time he graced the Naughty Ottsel with his presence, though it was surely overpriced. After that first glass of wine, he generally switched to ordering hard liquor in the form of popular cocktails, like the Hellcat Ambush that he planned on asking for next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The TV was playing with captions on and the sound low; it was some prime-time sitcom which Razer didn’t recognize and didn’t much care for. Before he’d arrived, someone had chosen a set on the jukebox which was smooth and somber. This may have backfired, serving as an unintentional lullaby for the bar owners. Jak looked drowsy, slouching low with his chin in his hand and blankly watching the screen. Daxter was already asleep on top of the bar between them, a used mug tucked underneath his little chin, like a pillow. This had left a trickle of beer on the counter but no one had bothered to clean it up.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Razer idly tapped the end of his lit cigarette against the ash tray and glanced around. The bar seemed to be unmanned at the moment: the bar-tender they’d hired was presumably somewhere in the back room, possibly getting started on clean-up while it was slow. This put a damper on Razer’s designs. He didn’t expect or trust Jak to mix anything for him and the ottsel was asleep. ...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daxter mix drinks? Razer felt the hint of a smile at this thought, considering some of the bottles were almost half his height, and inhaled some smoke from his cigarette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think the ottsel looked particularly comfortable now, with his neck craned back and his body stretched out, twitching slightly. Poor thing. When Razer noticed a towel had been hastily tossed aside, he carefully folded it, wiped up the spill, and with the clean side facing up, gingerly tried to extricate Daxter from the mug, intending to plant his fuzzy head on top of the equally fuzzy towel. A simple process.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ottsel whimpered softly and without opening his eyes, chose to roll over on top of Razer’s other arm, pinning it underneath him. Razer froze. A darting glance proved that Jak hadn’t even noticed. The boy was slumped down further onto the counter, as if Jak were about to doze off himself. Well, that was helpful, but Razer didn’t feel like having a brawl if Jak woke up and misunderstood him trying to toss Daxter off of him. Irritated at this turn of events, Razer flicked the towel closer to the bar tending side and grunted. Daxter twitched a fluffy ear and curled up tighter, claiming his arm entirely.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Razer stared at the damnable creature for a minute, glancing back and forth before he gave up. Of course these little shits would find some way to block him from doing what he was trying to do, in their sleep and when it would’ve benefited them. Shaking his head, Razer decided to go all in and leaned over the little ottsel as well, before gently rubbing the space between his shoulders with two fingers. Daxter stretched and groaned happily under these administrations, before snuggling into the crook of Razer’s elbow, leaving behind little orange and yellow hairs on the black and red sleeve. Razer couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Cute and opportunistic; the cruelest combination! He really should’ve known better. Nonetheless, he had a lint roller in his car; it wasn’t the end of the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Curious to see how far he could go with this impromptu cuddling, and wanting to free his arm from the hefty weight of a full-grown ottsel, Razer maneuvered Daxter into more of a sitting position, leaning Daxter’s head up against his chest. It meant getting more of his coat into contact with the little furball but it almost felt worth it when Daxter readily shifted and snuggled his face into Razer’s black lapels. Ha! Razer smirked, perhaps too pleased with himself that this had worked.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Not long after, this unexpected sight also helped him in flagging down the bartender for that cocktail and a glass of water to go with it. Razer stubbed out his dying cigarette and took several grateful sips, careful not to spill any, before he realized he was being watched. Glancing down, he noticed for the first time that Daxter’s eyes were half-lidded... and a deep blue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer darted his own eyes over to Jak but the tired young man had fully succumbed to the king of dreams, with his head on his arms and a tiny blanket that the bartender was draping over his shoulders. The others had departed at some point; he didn’t recognize any of the patrons watching him with idle curiosity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daxter nuzzled Razer’s chest and gently grabbed one of the lapels with his gloved paw even as he stretched his little legs out before curling them back up again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm… I love your cologne almost as much as I love your jacket,” Daxter murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer’s ears pricked up in surprise and it dawned on him that perhaps the ottsel was also too drunk to remember that Razer had once threatened to stab him. Uncertain what else to do, especially since this was entirely his own fault, Razer set down his glass, wiped some of the condensation off his suede glove and onto his shoulder, before rubbing Daxter’s back. The ottsel immediately chirred and arched into his gloved hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awww… but I can’t!” Daxter said, wiggling petulantly for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm?” Razer hesitated, realizing this might be another point of no return, but perhaps he was also drunker than he’d known because he dived right in. “You can’t what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m already taken, pal.” Daxter had just enough sense left in him to blush, embarrassed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer chuckled with his mouth closed, then asked, “By whom? Jak?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could say he’s one of ‘em,” Daxter said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both glanced at the sleepy blond and Razer’s heart almost stopped. Jak’s blue eyes were also half-lidded and staring blearily up at him with more magnanimity than Razer deserved. When the boy’s expression remained calm and dopey, instead of turning into one of fear and hatred, Razer cleared his throat and gently started petting Daxter again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he minds,” Razer said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jak snorted but didn’t bother to deny this. Daxter chuckled and grunted softly as he wiggled nervously and cuddled closer. Razer had unconsciously straightened up and away after getting caught, even though he was quite innocently caressing Jak’s pet, of all things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Course not,” Daxter said. “But anyway, I meant my girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see,” Razer said with a pout. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, it had been a joke that had simply flown over his head? Razer stopped petting him to pick up the carton of cigarettes he’d left on the countertop, before he realized that he was missing an integral part of the equation. Razer tapped the top of Daxter’s little round head, which was covered in a leather flight cap of all things… The teeny goggles attached to it were something he hadn’t really noticed before and he paused to admire them before continuing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, do me a favor. My lighter is in a belt pouch beneath you. Please fetch it for me if you don’t wish to move.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daxter frowned at the word fetch, but wriggled around and obliged, humming as he searched. Jak sat up a little straighter, though his arms were still resting on the bar, and watched him like a sea hawk, as if Jak expected a booby trap to go off. Razer smirked but had no such designs and simply thanked the ottsel when he offered the lighter up, taking it gingerly and lighting his cigarette to one side, so the ash wouldn’t land on Daxter. When Razer was done, he instinctively attempted to put it back in its proper place, before remembering there was something in the way, and set it down beside the carton instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I forgive ya entirely... Yer still a--a jerk,” Daxter began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer snorted with a mixture of amusement and agreement. His entire point in every other interaction with them had been to scare Krew’s team off but he’d recently come to terms with his inability to do so. Razer had already told Mizo that he needed to get involved if he didn’t like Razer’s lack of results. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Daxter paused, then continued with uncertainty, “Which is okay? Most of the people we know are jerks... or used to be really big jerks to us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How unlucky,” Razer murmured.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He gingerly stroked Daxter’s hunched back again. There was a sudden urge to remove his glove, to feel the fur directly against his bare skin, but he quelled it. Razer wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable in their presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of ‘em didn’t threaten to kill us, but that’s splittin’ hairs,” Daxter said. “It’s a violent world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer nodded and released a long, slow sigh which was laden with hazy smoke. The Syndicate was predatory, everyone knew that, but it was where he belonged… or it had been. Razer could see the writing on the wall. Even if Mizo found some way to pull through in the finals and forgave him for all of his failures, Razer had enough sense to know that he’d worn out his welcome; he was on shaky ground as a useful member. The best he could hope for was reassignment and Razer preferred being the driver behind his own destiny. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced down, realizing that Daxter was giving him a squinting, scrutinizing look, even as he continued to lean heavily into Razer’s touch. It was ridiculously serious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re just doin’ this because I’m cute, aren’t ya?” Daxter asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer couldn’t resist smiling and gently patted his plump little ottsel cheek. Daxter’s whiskers flattened underneath his fingers and it struck Razer that Daxter shaved much like a human man… somehow, avoiding the whiskers which were really on either side of his head. An odd little thing which somehow didn’t ruin Daxter’s charm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose,” Razer said. “And are you putting up with me because I’m irresistible?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daxter proceeded to think very hard about this and then shook his head. “Nah!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer put his hand to his forehead and mockingly pretended to be in shock, teasing the little ottsel who quickly became embarrassed and hung his head even as he snuggled closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean yeeeeah… For me, yer a definite fuck in the ‘fuck, marry, kill’ game!” Daxter admitted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer chuckled harder at this and inhaled deeply before glancing at Jak, who glared at him when their eyes met, before looking away. Apparently Jak really didn’t want to weigh in on this idea. His discomfort only made Razer more cheeky and eager to continue the direction this conversation had taken.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not marriage material?” Razer asked, feigning offense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daxter blushed wildly and decided to reassure him. “No, no… It’s not...  Wait, you think you’d wanna marry me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced at Jak who was now more awkward than annoyed at being dragged into it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you looking at me?” Jak asked. “I didn’t say anything!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, right, right.” Daxter turned back to Razer, looking up sheepishly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> asked me… uhhh… uhhh, who were my options again? I forgot already!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer patted Daxter’s back and chuckled, before taking another hit of nicotine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> question, my furry little companion… and you never mentioned the others,” Razer said, “But I’m pleased to know I’ve made your list.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Daxter said. “Um, I guess… I don’t know. What’s yer endgame? My honey bunny kinda sold me on the little cottage with a tire swing and… uhh… and I think a workshop… and a screened in porch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer snorted a hazy huff of smoke at this vague yet idyllic picture of domestic bliss, then shifted uneasily, since it was far more personal than he’d expected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m working on my future as we speak,” Razer admitted. “Ask me again after the tournament; perhaps I’ll have an answer for you then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were quiet for a minute and Razer studied the stump of his cigarette, idly patting the ottsel as he ruminated on the plans he needed to set into motion soon if he intended to get out and make a clean break, no matter what the ultimate outcome of the bet might be. Razer still appreciated Mizo for the opportunity of a lifetime and had greatly enjoyed having his time in the sun, but all good things must come to an end some day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm… Hey, ya know what?” Daxter asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer glanced down. The little fellow had slumped up against him again, hugging Razer outright, his eyes closed tight in contentment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm?” Razer tilted his head to one side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daxter looked up at him and winked. “In another life? I’d totally let ya take me home!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer was startled, but soon smirked. “And what would you expect of me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Daxter said as his eyelids lowered. “However you get your jollies! I’m down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...” Razer glanced at Jak. “Does he proposition you as well?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jak smirked groggily. “Uhh… no comment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm. Well, I’m not Blitz, so you don’t need to take that tone with me,” Razer said, snorting some smoke through his nostrils as he stamped out the dying cigarette into the tray. “But also, I’m not you. I suppose I should be honored by this offer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ya should!” Daxter said. “Hey!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer glanced down when he felt a tug on his lapel and not knowing what possessed him, slid his fingers under the ottsel’s head, stroking lightly under his chin and down his slender throat. This produced a soft gulp. Daxter flicked back his ears, before he grew bolder again and gave Razer a pleading look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least… G’ me a good night kiss?” Daxter asked, sounding unexpectedly earnest. “Ya know, one for tha road? We should probably hit the hay…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jak groaned. Razer uneasily glanced his way, but the boy was merely standing up and stretching to dislodge some discomfort from his limbs. Jak acknowledged this attention with a yawn which compelled a similar sensation in Razer, who tried to imperceptibly stifle it and failed. This produced another smirk from Jak, the impudent little whelp. Razer narrowed his eyes and sneered, shifting his hands around Daxter’s torso and under his rump, gently lifting and pushing Daxter away so the ottsel wouldn’t fall when Razer stood up next. Daxter remained nestled on top of the counter, confused, but quickly joined them in standing, whereupon he walked over to the edge of the bar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I ain’t got cooties!” Daxter said, wagging his index finger irritably before jabbing it in Razer’s direction for emphasis. “And… and yer the one who came onto </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> first!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer glanced at Jak, but he’d turned and headed for the restroom, clearly deciding it was safe enough to leave them alone together. Daxter remained conflicted as he waited for some reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Let’s create some plausible deniability,” Razer said. “Why don’t you give me a good night kiss instead? You’re drunk, you own the bar, and your friend can’t mistake my intentions if he returns and sees you being so forward.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer put his hands behind his back and leaned over, his own long and narrow ears amiably flicked back while he tilted his head quizzically to one side, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Razer knew that he must have looked quite pleased with himself but he really couldn’t help it. That was his default expression… resting smug-face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not deniable for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Daxter protested. “I’m gonna be the one in boilin’ hot water if Tessie thinks I’m cheatin’ on ‘er!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer paused for a moment, pondering the temerity of this claim and deciding that it really didn’t matter when he was dealing with a talking animal… or supposedly, a Precursor. Razer had heard the rumors but nonetheless, it was pointless all the same. Then he frowned. Even in a scenario which he’d never considered possible, it was always the same damn thing, wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one to take the fall? Typical.” Razer sighed. “Very well. Consider this a gift for sharing my company when I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned in closer as he darted a glance to the side, noting that Jak still hadn’t returned. Then he looked expectantly at the ottsel, who was still pondering over his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Daxter must’ve felt guilty, judging from his furrowed brow and wide eyes, but the ottsel didn’t back away. “Uh…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer slid a finger under Daxter’s chin once more but gave him a very sweet kiss on his whiskered cheek, instead of planting it on his little lips, which were a strange thing to think about once he realized Daxter had them, and just for good measure, he gave Daxter a little peck, just a ghost of a kiss, there as well. After Razer had pulled away, Daxter kept his eyes closed, though his ears were drooping behind his head, in some sign of defeat or perhaps the combination of alcohol and drowsiness had gotten the better of him. Daxter sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yer nothin’ but bittersweet at best, ya know that?” he complained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Razer chuckled and straightened up, when Jak reappeared, giving him a dangerous glare as if he’d finally remembered they were at odds with one another professionally. In response, Razer gave him a drowsy half-smile, half-scowl. Daxter looked like he was in some state of despair. They all needed to sleep this off, as far as Razer was concerned, but he did feel bad potentially giving the fluffy little devil a hankering for more.</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll leave you with this, my little fashion aficionado,” Razer said, “If you somehow survive through the entirety of the championship then, by all means, hit me up. You seem like a party animal and I could do with more of that in my life. I doubt I’ll be where I am now but if you want to find me, I’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> more accommodating, even if I’m not down to fuck!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a slight stumble and a wave of good bye, Razer left them both with their jaws on the floor. Jak had immediately looked perplexed and disconcerted, perhaps wondering what he’d missed, but Daxter had bright, sparkling stars in his limpid blue eyes, envisioning a future that Razer was admittedly curious to see, even if right then and there he cared far more about finding one of those hovering taxis so he didn’t wreck his car.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If I ever finish it, a sequel will include Human!Daxter/Razer smut.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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